


More Please

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flustered Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Stripper Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is just a shy figure skater, with lots of gold medals and really good looks. For some reason he’s never had any luck with love. When his best friend, Chris, offers to set him up with someone he reluctantly agrees, not realizing that the person Chris wanted to introduce him to was also going to be the stripper at his bachelor party.Part 2 of 2 of the swap of Yuuris between my ficsBad AppleandThe Devil Wears Gucci, but can be read without reading either of those fics.





	More Please

Victor suppressed a sigh and put on a big smile. It was Chris’s bachelor party and he was determined to be the best man Chris deserved. Unfortunately, all he could think about was how lonely he felt. It seemed as if everyone was getting married around him. Everyone found that special someone they loved best and was settling down with them (in some cases even with kids). Everyone but him.

Maybe he was just destined to be the third wheel for the rest of his life. Maybe there was something wrong with him. He was always too shy to approach anyone while no one was interested enough to approach him.

So he won gold. So he was a legendary figure skater. So he was Russia's national hero. So what?

It didn’t fill the hole in his heart or keep him warm at night.

_“Listen, Victor,” Chris said two days earlier, “I found someone for you. They’re exactly your type. I know it. Trust me,” and he winked._

_Yeah, right. How many times have I heard that one before? It’s not as if I have really high standards! I just can’t seem to meet anyone I like that way._

This wasn’t entirely true. He’d met someone once and pined after them from afar, but never had the courage to approach them. And so one day he found himself hearing about them marrying someone else.

He sighed, forgetting himself.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon enough,” Chris said.

“Sorry, Chris, I’m not… I’m…”

They’d spent the whole day getting everything ready and now stood outside the restaurant, waiting for the guests to arrive so Chris could greet each of them personally.

Chris smiled knowingly. “I meant the person I want you to meet.”

“Oh! I… uh… They’re… they’re coming here?”

Chris’s grin got wider.

 

He swore he’d never do it again, but when Chris begged him he had no choice. In exchange he’d finally get to meet the great figure skating legend himself: Victor Nikiforov.

Yuuri had tried to meet him two years earlier, but due to some kind of mix-up made friends with Chris instead. He had been writing an article on the Figure Skating World Championship at the time. It had also been not long after the living legend won his third gold. He’d recently gotten his fifth and still Yuuri hadn’t exchanged even two words with him.

 _But why do I have to do_ this _again_? Yuuri thought in exasperation. _It’s so embarrassing!_

He looked down at the outfit laid out on his bed and sighed.

Chris had sent it with a note asking him to wear it. Well, it was _his_ bachelor party, so he was allowed to pick the entertainment. Yuuri tried not to think how awkward it would be to strip in front of his friend. For some reason Chris had especially insisted that they have a pole dancing competition afterwards.

Yuuri sighed again. _Just one night of embarrassment and I can meet my hero._

He’d often regretted not being a figure skater, not going out there and competing against the biggest legends. He wouldn’t win any medals, of course, but to be able to go out on the same ice and attend the same parties! And even if they never talked, he would’ve at least mingled with the same crowd.

But he had to resign himself to watching all the competitions from the sidelines instead.

Victor Nikiforov – the legend, the incredible skater, perfection itself.

He was a bit of a celebrity, but unlike most celebrities he had no dirty secrets, no dark past and no flaws with his personality.

In short: he was perfect in every way.

And soon Yuuri would get to meet him.

 

The living legend greeted the guests one by one and tried not to think about the fact that they all came in twos and threes, especially in twos.

 _It’s fine,_ he thought, _being alone is fine. I have Makkachin. He has me. It’s all fine._

Once everyone arrived they took their seats at the big table in the banquet hall. There was some excited conversation and then Victor got up with a speech he’d prepared for the occasion.

“We all know why we’re here. It’s no big secret Chris is getting married.” He beamed at Chris as he felt his heart ache. “And before we get to the rest of the entertainment –”

“Yeah!” someone shouted. “Bring out the strippers!”

Chris put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Listen, Victor –”

Someone switched off all the lights and a single beam fell on a figure sitting backwards on a chair.

Victor’s mouth dropped open. They hadn’t… Chris never told him he…

The figure was in a leather body suit and mask that covered the back of its head as well as, presumably, the front.

Slowly music started to play and the figure moved its shoulders.

Victor stood, frozen on the spot.

Chris lowered him gently into a chair.

The figure stood up and turned around to loud whoops and whistles from the audience.

Victor could see now that it was definitely a man.

He went around the table, bestowing playful smiles on people he passed until he reached Chris and stopped in front of him.

Chris laughed and made a gesture that made all the blood rush to Victor’s face at once.

 

 _Well, let’s get it over with,_ Yuuri thought. He was dressed head to toe in leather with gloves that reached his elbows and black boots. He’d had a long argument with Chris over the gloves and the boots, an argument which he’d lost.

He recognized some of the people at the table and a feeling of dread stole over him. Suddenly he knew _exactly_ what was about to happen. _Chris this_ isn’t _what I agreed to! How could you?_

He walked up to Chris, hiding his emotions behind a smile and Chris gestured to the man beside him.

Yuuri’s heart fell. _How could you do this to me? All I wanted was to meet him for a conversation over a coffee, maybe, but…_

He knew what he had to do now. Backing down was no longer an option.

Yuuri walked up to Victor, hoping like hell that his movements were graceful and didn’t tell the world how uncomfortable the boots were or how unsteady he felt on his feet.

Just as the thought occurred to him he lost his balance.

 

Victor’s brain started to shut down as soon as he realized the man was coming towards him. He was having trouble breathing.

The man seemed to have guessed what was on his mind, because he pretended to fall over, only to slip cat-like around him. Now he stood behind Victor’s chair, arms resting on the back of it.

Still the mad song kept playing and Victor wondered who’d picked it. It didn’t seem to match the figure in leather at all.

Or maybe it did. He wasn’t sure anymore.

 _I want to be loved by you,_ a woman’s voice insisted. _Just you, nobody else but you._

His hands trailed up Victor’s arms. Victor gulped. He felt blood trickle down his face, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull out his handkerchief and wipe it away. How embarrassing! His nose was bleeding!

The man walked around him and then reached for his pockets.

Victor wasn’t breathing anymore. He stared wide-eyed as long graceful fingers in black leather gloves slipped into one pocket after another until he thought he would faint.

Finally the man found what he wanted and pulled out Victor’s handkerchief. He held it up to Victor’s face and gently wiped the blood off.

“Th-thank you,” Victor whispered hoarsely, breathing out at last. The stranger probably couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t even hear himself.

 _I want to be loved by you alone_.

He slid his hand through Victor’s hair and down over one side of his head, gently touching his ear.

Victor’s throat was really dry. He swallowed.

 

Yuuri had resigned himself to playfully flirting with Chris. He hadn’t expected to be flirting with his long-time idol. _Oh God! Talk about awkward first impressions!_

He watched Victor’s reactions and kept going. There was something very endearing about how flustered he was. Yuuri was used to being flirted at in return, to hearing all kinds of comments and seeing all kinds of gestures. But here was Victor: innocence himself, embarrassed both by Yuuri’s actions and his own reactions to him.

Yuuri put his hand to his mouth, grabbed the fingers of his gloves with his teeth and pulled. Leather gloves were annoying to take off, especially when they were as tight as these had been, so he prolonged taking them off deliberately. He pulled off the first one and held it out.

Victor took it and put it into his pocket. Then he held out his hand for the second one. Yuuri gave it to him and it joined the first one.

_I couldn’t aspire_

_To anything higher_

_Then to fill a desire to_

_Make you my own._

Victor caught Yuuri’s hand and brought it to his lips.

Yuuri felt the blood rush to his face. What was he doing? Was this a good idea? He turned his head and caught Chris’s eye. He gave Yuuri a look that said: “keep going”.

_I can’t do this! He’s… I’m not…_

He remembered he was still wearing his mask. He could keep it on and Victor would never know it was him. They could still have a normal meeting afterwards, no matter what happened here.

Yuuri backed away against the table and someone cleared it hastily behind him. He leaned against it and caught hold of the top of the zipper by his neck. He looked at Victor, wondering what he would do next.

 

He couldn’t faint now! He didn’t want to miss a single second and, yet, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He loosened the collar of his shirt, which the man seemed to take as permission to continue.

Slowly the zipper parted from the top down and Victor was almost gasping for breath now. _Oh my God! He’s naked underneath!_

Still the singer went on, insisting that she wanted to be loved by only one person, whoever that was. He felt like he was slowly going insane.

_If he comes near me, I’ll definitely faint._

The zipper ended and Victor was treated to the sight of two beautiful bare shoulders, one shoulder at a time. The man shifted forward and something sparkled on his chest.

Victor breathed out. He wasn’t naked after all.

Slowly two slender arms were freed from the leather suit. He slid a hand over each arm once it was free, as if revelling in the absence of the suit. The man turned around and Victor took in a back that could’ve been sculpted by any of those artists who usually worked with marble.

Down, down the suit went to reveal that what Victor had initially thought was a skin-toned top and which was, in fact, bare skin covered in sparkles. It turned out that the only thing he was wearing under the suit was underwear, underwear that didn’t cover his backside at all.

His head was spinning. He held it, trying to steady himself.

The suit dropped to the knees. Two more zippers from the knees to the feet let the wearer take the suit off without removing the boots.

The man placed one foot over Victor’s knee. Victor gripped it with both his hands and tried not to think about the person wearing it. His fingers scrambled around for a zipper, slipped off, got hold of it again and slipped away again.

His eyes were lowered and he noticed the handkerchief lying on his lap. It was all red.

He got a grip on the zipper and pulled it down.

Then came the second shoe.

There was some sort of noise. Was the song still playing? He didn’t know. The stranger stepped up to him and Victor’s fingers brushed against a thigh by accident. He recoiled.

_I’m going to faint. Any minute now I will pass out and I will never know what his name is or what he looks like. Why won’t he take that mask off?_

Two hands caught his own and pulled them towards a bare, sparkling chest.

_I want to know who you are._

His heart hammered like mad, like someone banging on a door, demanding angrily to be let in, or maybe to be let out.

Slowly he felt his hands being lifted up to that face and that mask and he knew what was required of him. He gathered the last ounce of his self-control and pulled it off.

He was rewarded by a beautiful smile and two shining eyes. The boy stepped forward, sat down on Victor’s knees and the world faded to black.

 

Yuuri sat on Victor’s lap, feeling at a loss as around him everyone cheered. He reached out and took Victor’s head. The figure skating legend had fainted! No one had ever fainted on him before and Yuuri wondered what that meant.

_What do I do now? I’ve never been trained in CPR!_

“Don’t worry about him,” Chris said. “He always does that. Well done, by the way! I think –”

But Yuuri wasn’t listening. _Oh God! What if he had a heart attack? Did I just kill a figure skating legend?_

He slid a hand down over Victor’s heart. It was still beating.

Yuuri breathed out a sigh of relief.

And then it struck him just how odd his situation was. That very same morning he’d lost his job and got a notice that in a week he’d be evicted for falling behind on paying his rent. He’d wept, knowing he had no choice but to move back in with his parents.

This was supposed to be his last night of independence.

And now he sat in Victor Nikiforov’s lap.

He’d wanted to do more. He usually did more, but Victor passed out just as Yuuri got to the best part.

Yuuri sighed. It just wasn’t meant to be.

“Yuuri,” Chris called. “You promised me a dance-off.” He pulled off his shirt and then his pants. “The pole is waiting.”

Yuuri smiled. “Yeah…”

He turned back and looked at Victor. There went the life that never was. The life that could’ve been.

He resisted the urge to touch that face and got up to join Chris at the pole.

 

After Victor regained his consciousness it took him several minutes to remember where he was and what had happened. He sat up in his chair. The bloodied handkerchief tumbled onto the floor, but he didn’t bother picking it up.

Loud music played as everyone gathered on the dancefloor.

Where was Chris?

Victor stumbled to his feet, still in a daze, the details of what had happened before he passed out a little fuzzy. He headed for the centre of the crowd, reasoning that Chris must be there.

Chris was. And he wasn’t alone.

The boy, _the stripper_ , was there. He was still only in his underwear and his body shone with sweat and the sparkles. He spun around the pole, laughing and shouting something to Chris.

Chris shouted something back.

Were Victor’s ears muffled, or was the music too loud? Why couldn’t he understand a single word?

The boy did a kind of upside down split (probably forgetting just how unsuitable his underwear was for this task) and then spun around to face Victor. The smile vanished to be replaced by embarrassment. He got down from the pole.

 _No, no_ , Victor panicked. He rushed up to him, forgetting his tendency to faint, his embarrassment, forgetting everything, in fact. “Please, keep going,” he pleaded, not really aware of what he was saying himself.

The boy rewarded him with a smile. It wasn’t the seductive one from before, but a smile of pure, innocent joy. “Come here,” he stepped back and beckoned Victor with his finger.

“I don’t – I don’t know how…” Victor protested.

But Yuuri wouldn’t let that stop him. He held one hand out and Victor took it. And they danced along to the music, oblivious of the crowd that surrounded them.

Chris dropped in on them several times to offer a glass of champagne. Yuuri barely drank and Victor only had two glasses.

But maybe the alcohol kicked in anyway, or the general relaxed atmosphere seeped into his brain, but as they moved together to the music Victor asked, “What’s your name?”

“Sorry?” the boy leaned closer and Victor blushed.

“What’s your name?” he repeated louder to be heard over the din.

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

“My name is Victor Nikiforov.”

“I know.” The look on his face suggested that he knew more than just Victor’s name and he felt his heart hammer faster in his chest.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met!” He took a deep breath. “I… uh… I really enjoyed that.”

Yuuri’s smile was the seductive once again. He stepped back against the pole.

Victor followed him, as if they’d been tied together by a string.

Around them the drunken members of the party danced and shouted.

Yuuri placed both hands over his own chest and slid them down to his stomach.

 _I want to get to know you,_ Victor thought desperately, turning bright red. _I’ve never met anyone like you._

And then the alcohol, or adrenaline, or whatever-it-was really hit and he stepped closer. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Yuuri’s hands were around him and Victor knew he would pass out again any minute. Yuuri leaned close and Victor could smell him now – a mix of sweat and something sweet. Yuuri put his lips against Victor’s cheek.

Victor raised his hands to put them on Yuuri’s shoulders, but before he could reach that far up the world faded away a second time.

 

Victor awoke and the first thing he saw was the ceiling. It took him several seconds to recognize it as the one in his room.

He had a strong sense of something wonderful that had happened. His heart sang. The hole in it was filled and a warm feeling spread inside his chest.

He sat up and looked around. The room hadn’t changed. He was in his clothes and he wondered why he hadn’t taken them off before going to sleep.

What was it? Why was he happy?

Maybe he had a good dream.

His memory of the previous day was a complete blank.

What day was it? What had he done the day before?

Still nothing.

He sighed and went to the bathroom. Maybe his morning routine would wake him up and something would jog his memory.

He looked into the mirror at his reflection and instantly everything returned to him in a flash: the bachelor party, the stripper, the pole dancing. And passing out after…

There was a lipstick imprint of a pair of lips on his cheek and under it – a phone number scrawled in pen in barely legible handwriting. He raised his hand and touched the deep red lipstick left behind by Yuuri Katsuki’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> So while I was writing this one, I kept thinking of ways to continue _Interview Me_. Send help.


End file.
